


Love Lab

by youaresunlight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 10:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youaresunlight/pseuds/youaresunlight
Summary: When Dean sees the flyer for a research study offering $75 to participants, he doesn’t think twice before signing him and Cas up. The problem, of course, is that it’s a romantic couples study and while Cas is his roommate and best friend, they are very muchnotin a relationship.





	Love Lab

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! It’s been a while! Now that I’m on a short summer break, I couldn’t help but meander back to my second home: the Dean/Cas trash can. I hope you all enjoy this very self-indulgent piece, inspired by this [post](http://lesbianrey.tumblr.com/post/139998890690/looks-like-the-perfect-opportunity-for-the-fake), complete with gratuitous mentions of Cas’ brick house stud physique.

Dean sees them on his way to grab a sandwich at the campus café, eye-catching flyers all crammed on a bulletin board with dozens of staples and edges overlapped. Some are for stuff he doesn’t care about, like thesis defenses for esoteric topics, but then his gaze wanders to the dollar signs and he takes a step forward to read more closely.

**Paid Research Opportunity**

_The Love Lab in the Department of Psychology needs participants for a study on romantic relationships. To be eligible, participants must be over the age of 18; have been dating monogamously for at least six months; and currently living together. The study involves weekly interviews where both participants are present. Compensation is contingent upon satisfactory participation and each couple will receive $75 per interview._  

Dean lifts an eyebrow. Seventy-five dollars for every hour or two of sitting and talking? The flyer doesn’t specify the number of interviews, but even if he blows the first one, which is probably impossible, that’s still a minimum of seventy-five dollars to put toward something other than rent.

The flyer is cut into strips at the bottom, each printed with the lab’s email and phone number. Dean takes out his phone instead of ripping one off to snap a photo of the entire page. He then stands there, sandwich forgotten, as he sends a quick email to the lab telling them that, yes, he’s interested. And once that’s done, he attaches the photo he just took to a text that reads, ‘Signed us up.’

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

He finds his roommate brewing tea in the kitchen when he gets home that afternoon. He lets his backpack drop to the floor as he saunters over to join him. 

“Drinking your mulch again?” he teases gently, heading to the fridge and poking inside. He grabs a beer because he isn’t a _hippie_ , thank you, and pops it open on the countertop. 

“Drinking your empty calories again?” Castiel quips, curling his hand around the ceramic mug. It was a present from Sam and has the molecular structure for caffeine drawn on one side because they’re both nerds who clearly enjoy chemistry paraphernalia. 

“You call it empty calories. I call it better taste.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Cas quirks his lips, amusement in his eyes. “Also, I got your text. You may have missed a little detail there.” 

“What detail?” Dean frowns a little, eyeing Cas over the rim of his bottle. “We get free money for interviewing. Sounds like all the details I need to know.”

“It’s a study on romantic relationships.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Neither of us is in a relationship.” 

“Sure, but we live together, and that was one of the requirements, wasn’t it?” Dean takes another sip of his beer, watching the realization dawn on Cas’ face. “Plus, I’ve had an impressive career in children’s theater, and weren’t you in some production once?” 

Cas stares at him, bewildered, then squints. “I played the angel in a nativity play, Dean.” 

“Hey, that’s a pretty nuanced role.” 

“Dean-” 

“ _Cas_ , come on!” Dean gestures emphatically with the hand not holding the beer. “Most of these studies usually pay in like, _coupons_ , but this is seventy-plus dollars for nothing! And what can they ask that’ll stump us, really? You know me better than pretty much anyone, right? And vice versa.”

“Maybe where we went for our first date? Who asked out who?”

“Fine, okay, so we’ll do some character building,” Dean grins, “and you asked me, obviously.” 

“Really,” Cas crosses his arms. “What makes you so confident?”

“I mean, look at me,” Dean waves at himself, lifting his chin with a cocky smile. 

Despite Cas’ effort not to mirror the expression, the corners of his mouth begin twitching upward. An indulgent fondness crosses his face as he catches Dean’s gaze and holds it. His intensity isn’t anything new, with his deep blue eyes and rumbling voice, but something about the way he’s looking at him now makes a strange flush creep over Dean’s neck. 

‘What the hell?’ Dean thinks to himself, clearing his throat and breaking eye contact. “So, uh, anyway,” he bites his bottom lip. “Think of all the extra mulch you’ll be able to get with the money.” He can tell that Cas is still watching him, and he doesn’t know why it suddenly feels different. But before he can read too much into it, Castiel nods and says, “It was at the Roadhouse.” 

Dean blinks while his brain catches up. “Huh?” 

“First date at the Roadhouse,” Cas says with a shrug. “That’s where we went the first time we ate off-campus.”

“Oh,” Dean rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah, um, that sounds good.”

“I’m heading to the library later. Want to come? Get dinner beforehand?” 

“Sure. You better be treating me.”

Castiel laughs. “Yeah, I can swipe you.”

“Cheapskate!” Dean accuses jokingly as Cas refills his mug and walks out of the kitchen. “It’s dates at the dining hall now? Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Location doesn’t matter as long as we’re together!” 

“I…” Dean trails off, aghast at the infuriating smile Cas throws over his shoulder. What he’s feeling is annoyance, right? It has to be. Why else would his cheeks feel so god damn hot?

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

The graduate student conducting their interview is a third-year Ph.D. candidate named Lisa Braeden. She’s sort of gorgeous and totally no-nonsense and has the air of someone who does 6 am yoga. She breezes into the office where Dean and Cas are sitting, holding a MacBook and a large green smoothie. “Dean and Castiel?” she nods at them both. “Thanks for coming in. We appreciate it.” 

She proceeds to explain that the interview will take about an hour, that any identifying factors will be redacted from the study results. “Barring any issues, we’ll move onto the second interview, which we can schedule at the end of this one. After your final interview, you’ll receive one Visa gift card in the amount of seventy-five dollars times the total number of interviews. Any questions?” 

Dean smiles at Cas. “Nope, all set.” 

“Alright,” she scrolls on her laptop. “How long have you two been dating?”

“Ten months,” replies Castiel, just as they rehearsed. “Since May of last year.” 

“Did you know each other before?” 

“Yes, we were roommates freshman year.” With a soft smile, Cas reaches over to take Dean’s hand. “We became best friends.”

Dean stares at his lap where their fingers are tangled, his mouth running dry for a reason he doesn’t understand. He’s so preoccupied that he nearly misses the follow-up question. “Dean, how did you transition from a platonic relationship to a romantic one?”

“We, um…” he swallows hard, wondering why his mind is going blank. It’s only when Cas gently squeezes his hand that he’s able to compose himself. “We were friends for a while and obviously knew each other really well. Then, I dunno, one day we went to grab a meal like we’d always done and it was just… different. An epiphany, I guess. Cas is my best friend and by then we were living off-campus and I’d grown so used to us spending time together and sharing a space that… It was kinda like we’d become… _more_ while I wasn’t paying attention.” 

“Did you experience any emotional resistance to the idea of dating your best friend?” 

“I might’ve if I hadn’t known what Cas was thinking, but-”

“I asked him out,” Castiel laughs. 

“Do you feel like you two have a lot in common?”

“I can’t say that our interests are the same per se, but that would be boring,” Castiel says. “I don’t want to date a carbon copy of myself. I’d rather be with someone who’s different, someone I can learn from.”

“But we have the same values where it matters,” Dean adds. “We work hard toward our goals and our families and friends are important to us… I can overlook his weird-ass obsession with mulch.” 

“Mulch?” Lisa wrinkles her brow. 

“It’s Dean’s word for tea because he’s a fragile male.” 

“Hey! I’m perfectly secure, thank you.” 

“Which is what a fragile male would say.” 

Dean stifles the laugh bubbling out of his chest. “Shut up,” he says without bite. It’s hard to ignore the crinkles by the corners of Cas’ eyes as he smiles at Dean, warm and sincere. He’d noticed them before, of course – Dean isn’t blind – but somehow his heart is fluttering now as well.

“Cas, do you and Dean often confide in one another?” Lisa asks, smiling to herself when it takes Cas a moment to tear his eyes away from Dean. 

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “There’s hardly anything I’d keep from Dean.” His hand is still a solid weight curled around Dean’s, helping Dean realize they hadn’t let go. When he turns his head, his eyes meet Cas’, that arresting, tethering blue Dean always thought was out of this world. “I trust him,” Castiel smiles, with the kind of earnestness that makes Dean blush. Not that he should be surprised. Being forward and direct is just the way Cas is. 

Once the interview ends and Lisa pencils them in for next week, Cas finally releases his hand as they both stand and turn to leave. They walk down the hallway side by side, shoulders brushing, fabric on fabric. Not until they reach the building’s main doors does Cas stop him to ask, “Dean, you okay?” 

“What?” Dean blurts in reply, breaking out of his reverie. He sees the worried crease between Cas’ brows, serious and concerned. “Yeah, everything’s good.” He notices his eyes darting down to Cas’ mouth, pink and chapped, and feels insane. “Anyway, I’m starving,” he forces a laugh, hoping it sounds sheepish and not terribly awkward. “Pretty sure it’s chicken parm tonight, wanna go?” he asks, his skin still tingling where he and Cas had touched.

Cas tilts his head as he studies Dean, looking like he could stare into Dean’s soul if he chose. But just as quickly as it came, his expression melts into something softer, and then he’s saying “Sure” and pushing open the door, half-jogging down the steps toward the brick-lain path.

Dean follows and tries to shake off this strangeness and unease, tries to keep himself from noting how Cas’ shirt seems to hug his frame. Most alarming is his sudden desire to hold Cas’ hand again on their way across campus, and he has to clamp down _hard_ on that want because, what in the ever-loving hell is happening to him?

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

To be blunt, the following week is disastrous, as though their interview had opened the floodgates to daily rides on the feelings train. Dean can’t even look at Cas without his stomach fluttering, or stop replaying Cas’ stupid smiles and stupid jokes over and over again in his head. It’s like his brain wants him to go _method_. Act like he’s in love with Cas for real. 

Maybe he _has_ gone crazy, or maybe all he needs is to just get laid. 

Either way, he’s miserable on Monday morning when he walks into his seminar and slumps next to Jo. 

“Damn,” she nudges his shoulder. “What’s wrong with you? Go out last night?” 

“No,” Dean mutters, low and morose. “I ate packaged pie and binged _Jane the Virgin_.” 

“What?” Jo pokes his arm. Hard. “Bitch, you never told me you were dating anyone!”

“I wasn’t,” he covers his face. “Shit, Jo, I don’t know what’s going on.” 

“Whoa, hey,” she tugs at his wrist, tone gentler now, until he looks at her. “We’ve still got ten minutes, so spill,” she says, and Dean does, starting with the flyer. He explains while Jo’s expression morphs through concern and confusion and alarm, until it eventually settles on unbridled amusement and she smacks him on the side of the head. “You clueless fool,” she laughs at him. 

Dean stares at her, wholly offended.

“Are you seriously telling me right now that you’re pining after Cas?” Jo rolls her eyes. “I could’ve told you back in freshman year that you were in love with him. You’ve had fucking heart eyes since the day you met.” 

“That’s not true,” Dean argues fiercely. “I _dated_ during freshman year, and so did Cas.” 

“Yeah, that relationship lasted two weeks and you were awful when Cas was dating. Literally the angriest person ever till Cas dumped that guy and became all yours again.” 

“He isn’t _mine_ , he’s…”

The truth is, Dean doesn’t recall specific details about the actual guy that Cas had dated, but he does remember being annoyed whenever a third backpack showed up in their room. He remembers Cas going to his boyfriend’s dorm on some nights – never bringing him back to their space, which was a one-room double. Dean remembers the boyfriend showing up wearing Cas’ crew team shirt and wanting to throw a punch at the sight of him. He couldn’t understand why, it was just- The kid had looked so goddamn smug like Cas was something to be _won_ and he… 

Oh. 

Shit. 

“Yeah,” Jo leans back in her chair. “Took you long enough. We’ve all known for ages.” 

“We?” Dean croaks helplessly. 

“Me, Charlie, Ash, Garth, Bela.” She pauses. “Sam,” she adds with a grin. 

“What about Cas?” Dean kind of feels like he’s about to burst out of his own skin.

“Dude, you gotta ask him yourself,” Jo pokes him in the cheek, “but now, at least _you_ know.”

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

Dean doesn’t mention the conversation to Cas, or show any sort of sign at all that he’s had this giant epiphany, which is ironic considering the fact that he talked about having one in their last interview. Had he brought this upon himself? Be careful what you wish for and all that jazz? 

“You’re going to bore a hole in the counter, Dean,” Cas tells him absently as he brushes past.

Dean jerks his head up, startled at Cas’ voice. “Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed. 

It doesn’t seem to bother Cas, who comes to stand beside him, hip against the island. “Let’s get dinner,” he says instead. “I made a reservation for seven o’clock.”

“A reservation?” Dean can’t help his surprise. There aren’t many places near campus fancy enough for that. “Is it someone’s birthday?” He wracks his brain, but fails to think of anyone who fits the bill. 

“No, I just figured we’d go on a date. Get in character for tomorrow.” Cas smiles easily like that isn’t the worst possible thing he could’ve said right now. 

Dean can’t think of an answer quickly enough, every gear turning and his entire mind scrambling as he attempts to process what Castiel said. He might catch a glimpse of the shift in Cas, his face falling minutely, just a barely-there thing. He chalks it up to his imagination, though, because in the next second, Cas is smiling again. 

“Dean, relax,” he chuckles lightly. “I got my paycheck and wanted to eat something that wasn’t cooked in a vat for a thousand people.” He straightens his button down and squares his shoulders. “You, um- Are you busy?”

“I, uh…” Dean breathes out a laugh. This is ridiculous. He’s making it weird. “No, man, I’m not busy. Gimme a sec to change though.”

If he weren’t mistaken, Cas looks relieved. 

Fortunately, they slip back into their usual dynamic just in time for dinner, with Dean teasing Cas for his high-maintenance tastes and Cas sighing at Dean’s refusal to eat his salad. “This is food that my food eats, Cas. Did you not watch _Parks and Rec_?” he grins cheerfully. “Here, you take mine,” he pushes the plate over. “I’m saving room for actual sustenance.” 

Cas just laughs but takes the plate anyway. 

But as much of an egregious health nut Cas truly is, he still has a sweet tooth to rival Dean’s. They can’t decide between the chocolate torte and crème brulée and end up ordering both to split for dessert. And while listening to Cas talk about the gunners in Biochemistry, their spoons clinking softly together, it occurs to Dean that he’s had a wonderful time in a place he’d loathed to have been with anyone else. He’s never felt all that comfortable in frou-frou restaurants, with their maître d’s and expensive wine lists, but none of that mattered tonight because Cas was there, a calming and steadfast presence. He isn’t sure if it’s a reassuring thought, or if it just makes him feel terrible and hollow and lonely. He’s reminded that Cas will bring someone else to a spot like this one day and it’ll mean something more. 

It’d be an actual date. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna split it?” Dean nods toward the bill when their server brings it by. They hadn’t ordered wine or anything, but he can guess the cost of freshly caught market price seafood. 

“Yes, Dean,” Cas pulls out his wallet. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with a wink. He looks like a scene out of a movie in the soft candlelight, nice shirt and messy hair, and Dean can hardly breathe. 

It’s not a long walk back to their apartment, and it’s warm enough outside that there’s no need to rush. Though Dean’s inability to keep from fidgeting might be responsible for some of that heat. 

“Sugar rush?” Castiel laughs, before reaching over to take Dean’s hand, grounding him. It’s hard to ignore how easily their hands slot together, like they’ve done this hundreds of times before. 

“This another character exercise?” Dean asks because he doesn’t know how else to react. He feels the electricity radiate from their point of contact and licks his lips, heart pounding fast. 

That might’ve been the wrong thing to say, however, or maybe the wrong tone – accidentally distant – because Cas clears his throat and gives Dean space, drops his hand with a low, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s…” but Dean doesn’t finish, just stares straight ahead down their familiar street. The warmth he’d been feeling soon dissipates, and they’re both quiet the rest of the way home.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

A part of Dean thinks there might a chance that Cas won’t show up to their second interview. Dean wouldn’t blame him; things have been stilted since their dinner went awry two nights ago. 

But Cas arrives with five minutes left to spare, punctual as always, and takes his seat in the chair beside Dean’s. He catches Dean’s eyes without saying anything, looking drained and disheveled like he’s been pushing a hand through his hair all day.

After a brief exchange of ‘hello’s, Lisa reminds them that their responses and identities are confidential. It’s less awkward the second time around; that is, until she asks, “Dean, are you confident in your intimate relationship?”

Dean feels his eyes widen. “Am I confident?” 

“Yes, do you feel like you connect well with Cas when it comes to intimacy? Do you feel like you communicate well?” 

“Well, I-” Out of the corner of his eye, Dean can see Cas stiffen, clearly uncomfortable. It finally drives it home for Dean that this was all a monumentally bad idea. If he hadn’t dragged Castiel into this mess, nothing would have changed between them. 

Wouldn’t he have preferred the status quo to losing the best friend he’s ever had? 

“Dean?” Lisa prompts softly when Dean is quiet for a beat too long. “We could move on to a different question and come back to this one if you’d like.”

Of course, the problem isn’t the question itself, but Dean’s regret of this whole situation, and when the emotion washes over him, Dean can’t bear to remain in the room any longer. “I’m really sorry,” he wrings his hands. “I, um, I’m actually not feeling very well today.” 

“Oh,” Lisa says sympathetically. “Do you want to reschedule for later this week?” 

“If we can, that’d be great,” Dean says. “I didn’t mean to waste your time.” 

“It’s no problem,” Lisa rises from her seat. “Email me tomorrow and we’ll find another time.” She smiles at Cas before leaving the room, blanketing the space behind her in silence. 

“Dean…” Cas brings his chair closer. “Are you alright? What was that about?” 

“Can we go home, Cas?” Dean leans over, elbows on his knees and face in his hands, covering his eyes to keep from confronting Cas and the sense of panic rising in his chest. 

“Okay, let’s go,” Cas murmurs eventually, taking Dean’s arm to lead him out. He doesn’t pry and for that Dean is grateful, but that’s the kind of considerate person Cas is. 

As they cross into the outskirts of campus and closer to their apartment complex, Dean tries to figure out how he’ll explain himself, how to get them back to the way they were. The tiniest voice inside Dean’s head suggests he come clean about his feelings, but he saw the expression on Cas’ face. His visible aversion to the idea of being intimate with Dean. It wouldn’t be fair to expect Cas to reciprocate just because he’s finally been slapped in the face with his own attraction. This is real life, not a fairy tale, and one-sided crushes are the norm sometimes. 

“Cas,” Dean calls him quietly, hanging the keys on a hook by the door. He shifts his weight, nervous as all hell, and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Look, I- I’m sorry I signed us up. I didn’t think about how awkward it could be for you.” He sees Cas open his mouth to respond but barrels on, needing to get it out. “It was stupid and it messed with my head and… I dunno, it probably means I need to get laid-”

“Is that what you think?” Cas interrupts, his tone controlled and unreadable. 

Dean swallows and drops his eyes. “Yeah, I… It’s all my fault.” 

He doesn’t know what kind of response he expects from Castiel, but it’s certainly not the dejected laugh that tumbles from his lips. “You know, when you sent me that text, I thought…” his face is shuttered, jaw tight and resigned. “I understand, Dean. Thanks for being honest.” He turns back around. “I’m going to get some air.” 

‘Wait,’ Dean wants to call out, but the door clicks shut before he gathers the courage.

He said it all _wrong_. God, he’s so pathetic. What gave him the right to jerk Cas around like that? He tosses his backpack on their overstuffed couch and sinks down beside it, rubbing at his eyes. 

He loses track of time, wrapped up in his thoughts, part of him trying to guess where Cas had gone and another scolding himself to let Cas be. He always pushes people until they’ve had enough and decide to run for the hills, far away from him.

It’s also clear that he’s been in love with Cas for a while, perhaps years like Jo had said. Acknowledging his heart wasn’t worth risking the good thing they had, or what now appears irreconcilable.

After a long moment, Dean drags himself up, remains distracted while he showers and changes, glancing at the clock every fifteen minutes. His hair is still damp when he sits at his desk but it escapes his notice, his attention paid elsewhere.

He spends a few minutes fiddling with his phone, scrolling through his text thread with Cas, going back to last week, last month, two months ago. It’s a fast-paced chain of exchanges, sent during morning lectures and long seminars. It’s as though by reading their old conversations Dean can reconstruct entire days.

 **Dean (8:13 am):** not even 10 min into this lecture  
**Dean (8:14 am):** my soul has departed my body  
**Cas (8:16 am):** Coffee might help you retrieve it. Meet at café after class?  
**Dean (8:17 am):** k yeah see you then

 **Dean (12:25 pm):** where are you wanna get lunch  
**Cas (12:29 pm):** Sorry. Stuck in lab. :(  
**Dean (12:31 pm):** i can bring food over  
**Dean (12:32 pm):** blt on wheat??  
**Cas (12:33 pm):** Yes, please. :)  
**Dean (12:33 pm):** 15 min

 **Cas (3:44 pm):** Stopping by CVS. Do you need anything?  
**Dean (3:48 pm):** we need dish soap  
**Dean (3:48 pm):** ice cream for me  
**Cas (3:49 pm):** Ok sugar-free, right?  
**Dean (3:50 pm):** lol ur the worst

 **Dean (6:17 pm):** taco night!  
**Cas (6:18 pm):** Heading over now. 

 **Cas (8:58 pm):** <https://youtu.be/PXCUxuIb3GM>  
**Dean (9:05 pm):** omg the toothbrush

 **Dean (9:31 pm):** what time’s your race tmrw?  
**Dean (9:31 pm):** 10?  
**Cas (9:32 pm):** Yes, it’s at 10.  
**Dean (9:33 pm):** k we’ll be there break a leg!  
**Cas (9:33 pm):** Thanks, Dean. :) 

“Dean,” comes a voice from his doorway – prompting Dean to look up from his phone. Cas, pink-cheeked and windswept, steps inside his room, speaking in a rush. “Dean, I know I said I get where you’re coming from; I know you didn’t intend for me to take this seriously. I’m sorry I got caught up in the make-believe and- It was wrong of me to push you toward something you didn’t want. I just hoped- I wanted to think…” 

Dean stands up. 

“What are you saying, Cas?” 

“I only agreed to see what it could feel like, if we-” Cas stops abruptly, then squints. “Is that mine?” 

Dean scrambles to follow the conversation, as well as Cas’ gaze that drops to the shirt he’s wearing. It’s the crew team t-shirt from freshman year with NOVAK on the back and a hole in the sleeve. “Oh. Yeah, this, um… You lent it to me that time I got drenched at Six Flags.” 

“And you… wear it still?” Cas asks him softly, his hopeful tone enough to make Dean blush. 

“Yeah,” he answers shyly, fisting the fabric near the hem, grey and worn. “I meant to give it back, I swear. I was just worried… You know what, it’s stupid.” 

“Tell me,” Castiel says. 

Dean feels the warmth when Cas locks their eyes, sees the openness there, and thinks it’s now or never. “I guess I kinda wanted to keep it for myself, so you couldn’t… let someone else, like a boyfriend, borrow it.” 

Cas’ lips part. 

Dean might die of embarrassment. 

“Dean, were you… jealous when I dated…?” 

“ _God_ , yes.” Dean scrubs his face as he lets out a shaky breath, shoulders trembling. “I didn’t even know why. I had no right to be jealous over you, but whenever I saw you two together- I was so confused that entire term.” 

“You never let it show.” Cas comes closer, smoothing his hands down both of Dean’s arms to center him, firm and secure. “Had I known, I…”

Dean takes a deep breath. “You what?” 

Cas lifts one hand to frame Dean’s face. “I would’ve done this a lot sooner.” 

When Cas’ lips touch his, Dean feels the spark right down to his toes. It’s slow and soft, just this side of cautious, until Cas parts his mouth and wraps an arm around Dean’s waist. 

Dean’s brain reduces to static. 

“Thought I scared you away,” Cas whispers roughly, once they break apart to catch their breath. Their foreheads touch with Cas’ fingers in Dean’s hair. “I just needed more excuses to hold your hand.” 

Dean feels the pink spread over his cheeks, heart happily rattling around inside his chest. He cups Cas’ face and draws him close, presses another kiss to that gorgeous mouth. He sucks the curve of Cas’ bottom lip, and when Cas groans, low and throaty, it’s sexy as hell and Dean can’t get enough. His hands are knotted in Castiel’s shirt like he’s drowning, and maybe he is. Drowning in a wave of something powerful that he’s finally able to accept. 

Meanwhile, Cas is walking them backward, a solid wall of muscle against Dean’s body. When they reach Dean’s bed, they go falling over, Cas catching himself in the nick of time to cage Dean in between his hands and knees. He looks incredible with his brilliant blue eyes, hair going every which way, that five o’clock shadow. But most important is his endearing smile that quirks in one corner and spreads to the other. 

“I’m sorry I was slow on the uptake, Cas,” Dean blinks up at him through his lashes. 

Cas bends down to kiss him in lieu of a reply, and Dean winds his arms around Cas’ shoulders, pulling him in till their bodies are flush. He lets his hands roam across Cas’ strong back then down to his waist where he plays with the fly of Cas’ jeans. When he gets his hands where he wants them to be, Dean undoes the zipper and pushes the layers down with little finesse, releasing a whine at Cas shifting back to kick all of it off the rest of the way. 

“Cas, come here,” Dean urges him on, biting back a moan when Cas loses his shirt then tugs Dean’s pants and boxers down over the swell of his ass. He slides a hand, huge and possessive, across Dean’s torso, rucking up his shirt. “Driving me crazy, you wearing this.” His voice sounds wrecked, like gravel and rain. 

“Yeah?” Dean asks, pleased and breathless. “You like how I look in it, Cas?” 

“More than,” Castiel leans in, burying his face in Dean’s neck. “It’s like you’re mine.” 

 _Jesus_. Dean shuts his eyes. He had no idea Cas could push his buttons like this. The kisses along his collarbone and the fingers in his hair, not quite pulling. All that restrained strength and contrasting tenderness and Dean is done for. A total goner. 

Speaking of being gone, Dean thinks through his haze that they better get this show on the road – and quickly. He reaches down between their stomachs and takes them both in hand, already fully hard. It makes Cas gasp, open-mouthed against his skin, so Dean keeps going till Cas is thrusting, the friction insane and the rhythm perfect. 

“ _Cas_ ,” he moans, hips jerking reflexively, palming the rock hard planes of Cas’ body with the hand not wrapped around their leaking lengths. With Cas growling inanities into his neck, their racing heartbeats, Cas’ heat beside his own, it doesn’t take long for Dean to stand on edge, ready to fall and bring Cas with him. 

It’s when Cas moans his name, so close and broken, that Dean gasps and comes all over himself and Cas’ cock. Cas pushes himself up and watches the entire time, managing a couple more erratic thrusts before finally coming with a guttural groan. “Fuck,” he murmurs weakly, draping himself over Dean’s trembling body, pressing kisses into every inch of bared skin and smiling lazily when Dean gasps at the touch. 

“Wow,” Dean blinks, nerves still tingling. “Yeah, we’re definitely doing that again.” 

“I hope so,” Castiel laughs, nuzzling and kissing the bolt of his jaw. 

“Hey, Cas?” 

“Mm,” Cas hums, lifting his head up to smile down, all slow and sweet. “Hello, Dean.” 

“Hey,” Dean blushes hard. It’s all so sappy and sudden yet easy, and he’s just really relieved it turned out to be Cas. “How long have you had a crush on me?” he teases lightly between one kiss and the next. 

Cas kisses him back, then hovers afterward, letting their mouths brush between low, shared laughter. “Since the moment you said, ‘My name is Dean Winchester.’”

“You’re kidding.” 

“No, I swear.” 

“And you kept it to yourself this entire time.”

“Well, I did say there’s _hardly_ anything I’d keep from you.” Cas’ smile is blinding. “Now, there’s nothing.”

The confession is so damn sincere and Dean feels like his heart is too big for his chest. “Guess we owe the Love Lab a thank you, huh?”

Castiel laughs. “Yes, I suppose we do.”

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

The following week, when Lisa asks, “Do you settle arguments in a satisfactory manner?” Dean blushes so hard that he can’t find words while Cas hides a grin into Dean’s left shoulder.

“Would you rather be with Dean than anyone else?” Lisa asks Cas later in the interview.

Dean feels his breath hitch at Cas’ smile.

“Yes, always.”

Dean mirrors the smile and takes Cas’ hand.

**Author's Note:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/163193359280/deancas-love-lab)
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr and do leave me kudos, comments, and love! :)


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